Flightless Bird, American Mouth
by Andromeda Grey
Summary: She had it all, but not what she wanted. So she set herself free... but when the time comes for her to return, will she go willingly? Or will she even have a choice... BeeXOC, HideXOC, OPXOC
1. Prologue

**Authors Note:**

**Here's another new story for you folks. I posted this snippet on deviantART, but only two people liked it - maybe you guys will give me better reception, or advice on how to improve? Either way, I hope you enjoy this despite the flaws! =3**

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_**Prologue**_

The glowing embers of the smoldering cigarette illuminated the night through the dirty window like a dying firefly, weak, as it filled the air with formaldehyde and hydrogen cyanide. However, the person behind the human-made cancer stick really didn't give a damn, rolling the cylindrical tube back and forth across his lips with his tongue idly, causing the burnt out parts to fall off the end onto the overused diner table before him. The coffee cup stationed there was empty, with only remnants of the black liquid it previously contained clinging to the sides and bottom of the mug. The man twirled said cup in circles, causing it to scrape lightly against the ivory-coloured plate it was on. He wondered for a second why the waitresses insisted upon putting a cup on a plate; it seemed completely pointless to him. However, most of the things he did now days were completely pointless, so he had no room for argument.

"You want some more, hon?" A woman with a raspy voice questioned him, jerking him back to an even duller reality. The waitress's hair was a flat blonde, damaged from heat and formed into wiry bunches. Her eyes were a muddy, washed-out brown that may have once been beautiful before she had started the methamphetamine that he could smell in her blood stream. Part of him wanted to wrinkle up his nose in disgust, but the majority overruled.

"Sure," He muttered, his blue eyes flickering to her expression when he spoke.

"You ain't from around here, huh?" The druggie asked, amused. He sighed internally, but gave a misleading smile to her.

"I was born in Great Britain," He told her, only because he knew that was what she would be expecting. She was done pouring the coffee then, and put a hand on her hip.

"Well, I sure hope you got some real money. We don't take no euros or shit here in Kentucky, buddy." The man just shook his head knowingly as the woman practically stumbled away, scratching at some scabs on her arm. His gaze turned to the flickering television located in the far corner, the interest becoming evident in his eyes as he did so. A CNN reporter was talking rapidly into a bulky microphone, chattering about an event that had occurred in the Pacific Northwest earlier during the day.

"…reports keep coming in of an unidentified aircraft flying over the Seattle-Tacoma area, some even claiming to have heard a sonic boom characteristic of fighter jets when they break the sound barrier, Wolf. All eye witnesses say that the craft was traveling in a South-Eastern direction. The local authorities say that the craft was picked up on radar that was installed after the Decepticon attack on Seattle three years ago, which is attuned to Cybertronian energy signatures," The reporter explained. The screen changed to an image of a man with glasses and grey hair standing in a news room.

"And you said earlier that the Autobots have made no comment thus far, correct, Ashley?"

"That's right, Wolf. Optimus Prime told the media there will be a press conference-" The screen went black. The man blinked, flabbergasted, until he saw a hefty woman walking away from the television with a look of irritation.

"Them goddamned aliens need to go home, if you ask me," She grunted, going back to the bar that she was wiping clean almost obsessively.

"Isn't their planet uninhabitable?" The man said in a low voice, looking the diner owner warily. She glared at him from behind the counter for a moment.

"They can go to Mars for all I care. 'S long as they leave us the hell alone," The woman replied. Again, the man shook his head, running a hand through his shaggy blonde locks with a look of aggravation. He merely whispered consoling phrases to himself, puffing on the cigarette in his mouth with more urgency to get the fumes into his lungs faster. He reminded himself that he had been lucky thus far that no one had recognized him by the eyes that almost glowed and the looks impossible for a nicotine addict. He had clean, white teeth; soft, healthy hair; muscles that were indeed meticulously looked after. The man would be perfection in most any woman's (and some men's) eyes. Of course, he didn't care about their opinions. He was already incredibly and perfectly biased. The only thing that concerned him was whether or not they thought he was human. So far, his act was going pretty well. As long as nothing like ignorant humans broke his façade…

"Excuse me, ma'am," He spoke up a little louder, "Can you tell me which road I need to take in order to get to Lexington?" The woman spent the next fifteen minutes explaining which road to take, which ones had bad traffic at certain times of the day, which ones had the most pot holes and et cetera. He soon zoned out of the conversation, nodding appropriately to make her believe he still listened attentively. When she was finally finished, he gave her the money due, grabbed his leather coat, and made sure to stick the cigarette deep into the ash tray to ruin any traces of DNA he may have left behind.

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**I hope you enjoyed the prologue of _Flightless Bird, American Mouth. _****And yes, I know this is the title of a song from the Twilight soundtrack, but it has nothing to do with the movie or book! :/Nor is this a 'song fic' so to speak; I just liked the title!**

**Can has review now? :3**


	2. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

**So, here's the second chapter! I don't have much to say about it except that I hope you enjoy it! :3**

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_**Luna's Point of View**_

_**Location: Lexington, Kentucky, United States of America, Planet Earth, Sol System, Milky Way Galaxy**_

_I was a speeding bullet. _

_The roar of the engine drowned every other vibration that could've possibly reached my ears, keeping my attentions just where they needed to be. Outside the windows, the world looked like a watercolour painting - a blur of colours that made little sense. My eyes could not linger long, though, as their desired subject dashed away within milliseconds. My nails dug into the polyester belt that was my only protection from slamming into the dash if the brakes were slammed. _

"_You seem jittery, Luna." I looked over to the sound of the velvety smooth, heavily accented voice. The lean blonde there looked exhilarated, his hands contrastingly light on the steering wheel as his eyes practically danced. His shaggy hair was ruffled, barely kissing the bridge of his nose. Still, those sapphire eyes blazed through it like an explosion of gasoline. His lips curved in a smile at my flustered expression, and a laugh rang out of his throat like church bells. Even when I thought he was going to kill me, I still loved that mech. _

"_N-naturally," I stuttered, trying to maintain some of my dignity, "You're driving like a fucking maniac." He just laughed again; he was so… carefree when it was just the two of us, as if that world where he was required to salute and respectfully look away did not exist. For a moment, I felt so overwhelmingly important, so special, that a bit of pride threatened to make me smile. I fought it. Where would my stern tone be then? _

"_Relax, love," The blonde mech purred before more than ten seconds passed, "Do you seriously believe I would crash? I've been driving like this for thirty years now."_

"_And out of how many of those years were you the car?" I questioned just as calmly, my own ocean-coloured eyes glancing to his. He gave a slight frown at that comment, and did not reply. I let my own feminine laugh echo throughout the car's interior, and he smiled again. _

_It was always so easy to make him smile… _

A single tear fell to the metal below my face. I wished to violently that things were still the way they had been back then, with everything so simple and impassioned and wonderful. Back before reality decided to be a bitch and slap us all in the face with the possibility of a war that could, literally and figuratively, rip me in half.

I couldn't cut it as a soldier, or even the daughter of a soldier. That was why I ran. I ran because I realized I couldn't live up to my own expectations, let alone the ones around me. I hadn't inherited the capability from my father, the wonderful mech and commander he was, to be incredible. I was average compared to everyone else…

And so I ran.

But I couldn't run from everything, and that was why I still let myself drift… why I still held onto the dog tags around my neck like they were that damned seat belt in that godforsaken Camaro. I wasn't lucky enough to be able to erase my memory, or even to have amnesia - no, whoever it was that was up there, they had a good sense of cruel humour. They liked to play with my heartstrings, too, nearly sending me back by using the damned things like a slingshot, trying to shoot back into his arms and, coincidently, back to the place I'd tried to avoid. Then I reminded myself what had happened the night I'd left, and the appeal I thought I had for him drifted like cigarette smoke. That didn't stop it from crawling back from the dark corner I had shoved it in every now and then, though.

"He is an asshole," I hissed between clenched teeth, "Remember what he said."

I couldn't forget. I could never forget. It was carved into my soul the same way hearts were carved in oaks. It wouldn't fade. The power those words had possessed was enough to cripple a human. It had nearly crippled me. A sob caught in my esophagus. How easily he'd spat those words, those wretched phrases that flaunted his true character.

_**Break me, mech! I dare you!**_

He already had. Who was I kidding? Don't tempt fate, young one; don't play with fire, for it will burn. I was already scathed; flames had licked me to the bone. Fingers dashed across scars up down arms. Oh so broken, oh so broken… He'd made me crazy, made me lose my sanity. _I _was the vile thing that crouched and slithered in shadows while he basked in the light of the heavens. Just a lantern; give me a damned lantern… It can burn off my blood, no need for oil. Scream my pleas to the sky, watch gods descend and laugh. No light for you, child, no light for those who have brought darkness upon themselves.

Again, I'd effectively boiled my hatred into a foul broth that kept me going. I could pull myself back into that dark apartment to see the real world around me. Pushing myself off of the mattress, I walked in front of the clear mirror. I was made of ebony and ivory; no colour graced this frame. A glance was all I gave, making my way to the kitchen. At least I had no drunken stumble or thunderous gait. I was graced with my feet, gifted with a strange malformation of shortened tendons that made me walk on my toes. Oh, yes, it could be fixed, but I liked it. It made me silent when I walked, like a cat.

I trotted down the stairs quickly, merely stumbling a bit. Despite my wondrous little calamity of phalanges, they had a weakness - they liked to come up from under me quite frequently. This loft apartment was a dream come true for me, and made my life here easier, knowing I could come home to this gorgeous place. Like me, it was the same colours as the piano, so we blended nicely. The refrigerator was my friend, too; its interior held some fine, alcoholic contents. I didn't bother with a glass for the blackberry wine, sipping it from the bottle as I walked past the television which was still playing _CNN._I hadn't even watched the evening news, and I wasn't going to watch it now. They were going to whine about politics and economics as always, and I wasn't in the mood for it. I picked up the remote and switched it to a nature documentary, letting myself be temporarily immersed in the exotic tropics. When I'd had my fill of wine, I replaced the bottle, and lay across the couch as I watched _Wild Pacific…_

Then I blinked, and it was light.

"Shit," I cursed, unenthused with the fact I'd fallen asleep on the couch of all places. The comfort of the aforementioned piece of furniture left something to be desired, as it wasn't broken in yet and the cushions were still very rock-like. I longed for a hand-me-down, and my back screamed for one. Still, I was forced to rise - work would be soon, and knowing me, I'd slept in. I took the remote into my hand to check to time on the television. Oh, yes. I had about thirty minutes to get ready.

Jumping up from the couch, I dashed to the bathroom and took a shower at top speed. Hair dry, make-up applied, I was ready for clothes. I nearly skipped up the stairs, pulling on skinny jeans and a dark t-shirt before throwing on a pair of converse. Within moments, I was out the door unlocking my car. It was a black Chevy Cobalt coupe. The car was a little older, but it worked just fine, so I myself was pleased with it. After all, it had so many modifications that most new cars couldn't pass it up. Hopping inside, I shoved the key in the ignition, gave it a test rev, and then pealed away from the curb.

About five minutes later I pulled into the parking lot of Barnes and Noble, clipping on a name tag before walking in. The name read "Sahara" instead of Luna. I'd done it for safety purposes only: my name was everywhere, while Sahara was not. Besides, the name had the same meaning when translated from ancient languages. Nobody had asked any questions as to why I looked so similar to Luna Prime yet, so I was safe for now.

When I walked in, the first thing I did was get a quick coffee. The manager didn't mind, being quite the laid-back woman. It was, after all, Barnes and Noble; a haven for people like me. I myself was put to work in the central help desk, seeing as people usually came there asking where a book was. I was very familiar with the store, and so I assisted everyone from house wives looking for new cookbooks to preteens trying to find the latest vampire sensation. I was friendly to everyone; in here, we were kin, considering the fact we were all readers. It wasn't long before someone needed help. A woman brought her young daughter up to the desk, looking embarrassed.

"Excuse me, miss," she said, "My daughter here is looking for something to read. She's not sure what to get, though." I smiled politely. I loved helping younger kids find books. I looked to the girl. She had green eyes and curly brown hair. She looked shy, but I looked her right in the eye.

"What kind of things do you usually read?" I asked. She shrugged.

"Animal books," the mother replied, "Jeila loves animals, especially horses. She's already read all of the Horse Friends or whatever they're called."

"You mean the _Pony Pals_?" I asked, and the little girl nodded. I went through a quick mental list. I loved horses, and I'd had a couple of my own before I-

"Have you read the _Saddle Club_?" I questioned quickly. She shook her head no, and we were off to find the books.

Few incidents in the first half of the day made me think of my past. I had a few bouts of nostalgia, particularly thinking about my beloved horses back at base. I'd mainly had Arabians, riding them all over the mountain. Now I had nothing. Thankfully, lunch arrived to break up my routine, and I drove to one of my favourite places to eat for some much needed down time. The Chinese restaurant was quite average, but I enjoyed it. I ordered the same thing as always, and pulled an Anne Rice book from my satchel to read as I ate. I almost didn't see the fierce lines of the muscle car as it pulled into view.

Unfortunately, I didn't look down quick enough.

The golden colouration was not standard; it was a custom you couldn't find anywhere else. The black racing stripes weren't so uncommon, and the pinstripes around it were so precise my fingers hurt just at the thought of how horrible it would be to do them by hand. The model itself was something you should have never found on the road; a Z-28 that would never really be released. There was a massive hood scoop and innumerable intakes, making the car look even more malevolent.

I had avoided this Camaro for a year, and here it was, prowling through the parking lot like it was nothing at all. I tried for a moment to peer inside from my vantage point to see the driver, even though I already knew who it was, but I soon gave up as I realized the windows were too darkly tinted. I'd never really noticed from the inside.

But that didn't matter right now. My mind immediately went into survival mode, and I shoved my book back into the satchel, tossed the remnants of my lunch in the trash, and quickly paid the small Asian man behind the counter for the meal.

"Come back soon!" He said cheerily, and all I could do was nod as I ran out the front door.

The rear of the Camaro had already cruised lazily around the front row of the parking lot, but it was easy to tell the car was coming back around in a wide loop. I had mere seconds. My nerves were destroying me, making me fumble, making me mess up. Insanity crept at the edges of my consciousness, tempting me to run in front of the wide pony car and bring a fist down on that gaping intake or kick in a fear-looking headlight. Finally, I felt metal against my hand and grasped it, pulling out my car keys, rapidly pressing the 'unlock' button. Within seconds I was in the seat with the engine on. I only paid as much attention as needed, backing up within seconds and shoving the car back into gear as quickly as possible. The Camaro had just slunk back into my row, and when I pressed the gas pedal, that monster of a machine jumped up to my bumper in seconds. Glancing in the rear view mirror, I finally saw a wisp of blonde and blue flames. I whispered prayers to every deity I could think of, and forced the Cobalt to blitz forward like lightning.

The Camaro barely purred. I nearly screamed.

Thinking fast, I whirled down a side road that was slightly familiar to me. The beast behind me gave a roar as it followed my path, but I'd gotten a bit of a head start. That was all I needed. If I was good at anything, I was good at racing. This was a big race, and it was on the streets - my home field. Again, I whipped down an one-way street and then another. The Camaro was falling farther and farther behind. I focused on getting back to my apartment. Right now, nothing else mattered. I had to pull myself together and make a plan on how to react.

Finally, the car was no where to be seen, and I was home. I parked the car across the street. It wouldn't keep him off my trail long if he found it, even though there was another apartment there - I had an energy signature that humans didn't. Still, I put my Cobalt there, and ran across the street up the stairs. The first thing I did was lock the door.

And then, I slowly began to lose my mind.

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**I hope you enjoyed this! Please review! :3**


	3. Chapter Two

**Author's Note:**

**Here it is: Chapter Three! :D I've spent all night working on this... I hope you all enjoy it! This one has a bit of humour, too, to break up the serious tone! Voila!**

**Also, just a note: Bumblebee acts OOC in this story, so don't be too surprised if he's nothing like he usually is.**

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**__**Bumblebee's Point of View**_

_**Location: Lexington, Kentucky, United States of America, Planet Earth, Sol System, Milky Way Galaxy**_

I had never really been at home in cities, and the fact that Luna had out-drove me in a tiny, under powered, excuse-for-a-coupe only proved that fact further. The hybrid femme, on the other hand, thrived in such places. Considering both points, I was at a disadvantage. No doubt the girl would flee again as well. But now, I knew where her apartment was. There would be no chase the next time.

If I could pick up the motivation to knock on her door.

At the moment, I was parked at the curb directly behind the small black vehicle that belonged to Luna. I'd already pinpointed her energy signature to be in the building across the street. It was just a matter of whether or not I could face her. For now, I merely leaned back in the seat of the Z28 Camaro, inhaling sharply on the cigarette in my mouth. I exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl and twist its way out the window like a snake. A long time ago, when I'd first started smoking, I had selfishly thought the smoke leaving my lungs made me look threatening, tough. Now, it just made me look like a smoker. At the thought, I held the cigarette out the window and flicked the end to let the ashes fall onto the sidewalk. How long ago had I started? Seventeen months, one month less than how long it'd been since I'd seen Luna. Back then, I would've died to have seen her. Now, I was ashamed. I had every reason to be…

_**Eighteen months, two weeks, three days earlier**_

_**Location: Autobots' Base of Operations, Mount Rainier National Park, Washington, United States of America, Planet Earth, Sol System, Milky Way Galaxy**_

I walked into our quarters only to find the girl crouched in the corner of her closet, packing clothes into a suit case. Eyeliner ran down her cheeks in ebony rivers; her face was red and her eyes swollen from tears. Seeing her like that was like taking a bullet to my spark, and my first instinct was to go to her side to comfort her.

"What wrong, love?" I asked softly, and with her watery blue eyes, Luna looked up at me. She wiped her eyes on her shirt sleeve, only smudging her makeup further, and gave a little sob.

"D-daddy got mad again," Luna whispered, breaking eye contact to stuff more clothes in her suitcase.

"But why are you packing?" I questioned, lowering my head a bit to break into her line of sight.

"Because I'm tired of it," She replied in a hasher tone, "I don't belong here; I wanna go to Seattle or Tacoma or somewhere across the country. A big city. I'm too average for this place." I have a bit of a laugh, though it wasn't pure; a ragged, irked thing.

"Because _you're _average? You do realize you're not even human, right?" It sounded like a question, but both of us knew she wouldn't reply directly.

"I can't live here, Bee. It's too… insane. Everyone's so busy, so worried, _all the time,_" Luna paused, and finally looked at me directly, "Doesn't it bother you, too?" She sounded far too hopeful.

"It's all I've ever known," I muttered.

"That's not true," She said, scooting closer to me and grabbing my hands, "You _know _that there are places that aren't like this." I couldn't think of anything to say. Of course I knew about places where people didn't worry about things like wars all of the time. But I'd been raised to be a soldier, and as far as I knew, it was the only thing I could do.

"You should come with me!" Luna squealed softly, "We can go together, and get a nice apartment in downtown Seattle, and-"

"I can't," I interrupted, my voice as hard as steel. Luna's blue eyes widened, and her pupils contracted; she looked like she'd just been stabbed as the colour faded from her face as well.

"W-w-what do you mean? Of course you can," Luna murmured, and her voice began to tremble, "You have to take c-c-care of me… like you p-p-promised. I-I-I can't take of myself." The girl was shaking by then, and her grip on my hands faded.

"Luna, you're only seventeen," I said in a low voice, "You realize your father would probably kill me if I ran off with you? Besides, we both know you like it here-"

"But I don't! I don't! I _hate _it here!" She shrieked.

"You _can't _leave," I insisted.

"Yes I can," Luna breathed, "Just as easily as anyone else can. Even though they won't. Because they're afraid of what _Optimus _will do." That was the first time she'd called her father by his first name instead of Daddy. I was so taken aback for reasons I couldn't comprehend that I lacked the ability to speak. I just stared until Luna stood, picked up her suitcase, and walked into the main room. After a moment, I followed. The girl was throwing books into the case. Desperately, I grabbed her hand.

"Luna, _stop. _You have to stay here where you're safe," I tried again.

"I'll be safe if you come with me," Luna reasoned.

"I can't protect you on my own!" I shouted, frightening her so much she dropped the books in her hands. I'd never yelled at her before that day, but something horrible told me it wouldn't be the last time, either. At that point, Luna's whole attitude towards me changed.

"Is that you can't or that you won't, Bee?" She asked, or more so hissed, bending to pick up the books she'd dropped, "You're just like them! Optimus had made you think that you're nothing without him, and that's not true! _I _know its not true, because you've shown me that you're much more than that. But it seems you think so, and because of him, you're going to give up me!"

"I never said I was going to give you up, Luna! Do you want me to? Ever since I walked in this room you've been pushing me!" I replied, the volume causing her to jump again. This time, it caused a fresh flow of tears.

"I'm not trying to push you, Bumblebee. I just thought you'd want to come with me because you said you _loved _me!" Luna screamed, finally past the breaking point. She grabbed a few other things and zipped up her suitcase, shoving her car keys in her pocket.

"Maybe I don't!" I screamed back, though this time I immediately regretted it. _Primus, what have I done, what have I done, what have I done? _My whole mind was thrown into a panic as I processed what that would sound like to Luna when she was already ripped up from her father. The girl's face only confirmed my fears as she went pale. Her colourless lips did not move to form a reply. Luna's knuckles went white around the handle of her suitcase, and she started walking.

"Luna, wait; I didn't-" The girl threw down the suitcase and turned on a dime to shove the heel of her hand right into my chest. The force of her blow knocked the breath right out of me, and I gasped for a moment. As I rubbed the spot where she'd hit me, I noticed something - Luna's eyes had a red tint to them. With her black hair and pale skin, she almost looked like a ghost or a demon.

"You can stay here with your precious Prime," She hissed, glaring at me. I couldn't speak a word. I felt so helpless, like I'd just lost Luna to this angry, violent femme before me. When I didn't reply, Luna picked her suitcase handle back up, and headed for the door. Before she walked out into the corridor, she stopped. Luna looked back at me over her shoulder, and it seemed her eyes became blue again for just a second. Then, she walked out the door for the last time.

_**End Flashback**_

Here I was again, feeling as speechless and naïve and _stupid _as before. I had to remind myself that I wasn't that same clueless youngling, though, that I'd matured and changed and finally grown into my position as an Autobot. Still, I felt like I had no free will of my own, like that _little girl _across the street could control me without moving a finger of speaking a word - and I knew she could. It wasn't my choice, of course, though the fact that Optimus had sent me after her let me keep some dignity.

I would've come after her anyway, probably a month after I'd started smoking. My mental health had already started degrading by then, and Primus knows in another month's time I would've been declared medically insane. The only reason I hadn't went crazy was because Optimus had assigned me the mission of finding Luna. He'd given me back my purpose, and saved my sanity, but I already knew the reason I kept at it was because I knew every mile I drove would bring me closer to Luna. I'd fantasized about the day I found her again a million times, going over every second again and again and again.

Now, there was only a street separating us, and I had no idea what to do.

I couldn't believe that I could lose my resolve so quickly after a year of trying to build myself up to something better than I'd been before. Of course, this was the first real test… yet so far, I was failing miserably. First, at the restaurant, I'd drove around in circles like an idiot, making Luna notice me. And now, I was sitting across from her apartment like a stalker. I gave a harsh sigh, throwing out the remnants of the cigarette and opening the car door. I couldn't sit around and procrastinate forever. I might as well get it over with.

Within a minute or so, I was across the street finally. As I walked up the stairs, I honed in on every single energy signature I could pick up. Most were the flimsy electronic sparks put out by the firing synapses of humans or their pets, electronics. My eyes flashed to either side of the hallway; though ridiculously so, I felt the familiar nervousness creeping up. The caution was trained into me, and I couldn't help it, but I still felt as if I was creeping on insanity with my worrisome tendencies in unfamiliar places. Still, I kept walking until the familiar feeling of Luna's energy washed over me, surprising me so much that I stopped abruptly and took a shaky step back. I'd only felt shreds of it earlier, and the sheer intensity overwhelmed me.

_That's only to be expected, _I told myself sternly, turning to the door on my right where the energy seemingly originated from. Sure enough, it was the right door. I inhaled deeply, trying to calm myself. The only result was Luna's scent nearly crippling me. I rested my forehead on the door, attempting to regain my bearings. What would I do when she answered the door? Was I planning on collapsing or becoming deranged? For little over a year I'd planned on opening the door to where-ever-it-was she lived with a complete calm, suave demeanor. Hell, I'd managed it in public for over a year.

Yet again, Luna was forging me into some raving madman without even trying.

I tried to forget that quickly. I wasn't crazy; I couldn't help the fact fate kept trying to bring us together and always failed at my expense. I stood straight then, finally bringing a hand up to knock, at first, lightly on the door. I waited a moment and heard no footsteps, so I knocked again, harder this time.

"Just a goddamned second!" came the sharp reply from inside. This was most assuredly Luna's apartment. I smiled slightly. She hadn't changed a bit. Still easily angered; just as temperamental as the great majority of her family. I waited a few more seconds before I heard the locks click as they moved away from the slots in the door frame. The door opened, and the girl stood there as plainly as always.

Or maybe not so plainly.

Luna looked much worse for wear than me; her long, black hair was tossed into haphazardly made pony tail with strands hanging out of the hair bow, her blue eyes seemed almost glazed over, probably from the wine bottle I spotted on the table inside the room. Luna's skin lacked any luster it may have once held, as pale as driftwood on the beach. She'd lost a considerable amount of weight as well, adding to her unhealthy look. Yet my spark still skipped several beats regardless.

The femme looked right into my torso for a moment before realizing the person in front of her was much taller. It was strange, considering Luna usually looked up, reaching a mere 5'2". Even when she looked up, though, the girl didn't recognize me right away. She squinted a bit. I realized from the scent of alcohol that Luna was drunk. I merely looked down into her eyes without speaking. _Lost from words yet again, hmm? _my mind taunted. As always, as always.

"Who the hell are you?" Luna finally demanded, crossing her arms, "I'm busy at the moment, and I don't want no damned cookies or vacuum cleaners." The girl's voice remarkably lacked a slur, and was barely wobbly. She'd finally learned to handle her drink, it seemed. I gave a small smile at the girl's choice of words, but I erased it before speaking.

"I'm old friend," I said simply.

At that very second, the door slammed in my face, hitting me on the nose with enough force to break it - if it had belonged to a human, that is. For me, it exploded with a pain that dizzied me for a moment.

"Shit! Oh, goddammit!" I heard Luna curse, and I opened the door to find the femme on the floor clutching her own nose, "Why don't you watch that fucking beak of a nose, huh?"

"Maybe you shouldn't slam doors so much!" I replied tetchily, "Especially if it's in your guardian's face!" Luna and I had a… strange, to say the least, bond. For some reason, the two of us could feel each other's pain. Luna could also retrieve my own memories, and we occasionally shared dreams. It was useful from a strategic standpoint as a guardian to know whenever Luna was in pain in case I was away, but in an everyday manner? Not so much. Ratchet had tried to understand it, as it was apparent from Luna's birth eighteen years ago, but he had not received any logical explanation from his studies. In short, we'd been forced to live with it. And every so often, such as now, it liked to remind us of its presence.

"You're such a fucking retard!" Luna screamed, "Get out of my apartment!"

"I'm not in your apartment; I'm in the hallway! You could be a little more courteous after nearly breaking my nose, you know!" I replied angrily, mostly pissed because of the pain.

"Bullshit! I didn't hit you that hard, you pussy!" Luna finally stood then, dropping her hand from her nose. It lacked any blemishes, unlike mine, which felt to be swelling. The girl then attempted to slam the door again, but this time I stopped it with my free hand.

"Oh, you're letting me in this time, little Prime," I growled. However, when I instinctively bared my teeth a bit, the pain ruined the desired effect, making me stumble a bit as I tried to grab my nose again.

"For the love of Primus," Luna hissed, almost to herself, "Fine. You can come in. I'll get you some ice, you fraggin' excuse for a mech." The femme directed me to the sofa, which was obviously new from the stiff cushions. Still, I couldn't complain seeing as I had no where else to go. Luna practically waltzed into the kitchen despite her drunk state and sore nose; I could hear her rummaging in the refrigerator, and I looked over the back of the couch to see her practically shoveling ice into a plastic bag; the whole apartment was an open floor plan excepting the bathroom, and I could see Luna's bed on the second story. It was done in black in white; somewhat plain but suiting the young Prime. Before I could absorb any more details, Luna came back around in front of the couch, tossing the bag at me. I gratefully placed it on my nose, giving a sigh of relief.

"So," Luna said in a loud voice before sitting down. I raised an eyebrow, though I couldn't see much of anything with the bag of ice in my face. She gave a bit of a giggle then.

"God, your nose is so swollen," She muttered, and added another chuckle.

"Shut up," I replied, unable to think of anything more clever to say.

"Why are you here?" Luna asked, suddenly stern again.

"Your father sent me," I paused, then added, "You still hate him?"

"No," Luna said sharply, and continued, "What did he ask you to do?"

"Be your guardian again," I mumbled past the ice.

"He didn't tell you to take me back to base?" She sounded confused, flabbergasted almost.

"No," I answered. The girl didn't speak a word at first, merely leaning back into the boulder-like cushions. I shifted the bag to peer at here with my left eye, curious as to how she would react. I wondered what Luna had expected our meeting to be like. Had she pictured me dragging out of her apartment by the ankles, or merely talking her into coming back? I wondered if I'd surprised her with my changed looks - I was taller, more muscular than before, with longer hair. Maybe that was why she didn't recognize me at first? I couldn't know, and I probably would never know. I didn't even know why it even mattered to me.

"Huh," Luna finally huffed simply, snuggling deeper into the couch, bringing her knees up to her chest as she peered straight ahead into the wall for a long minute. She looked down at her chest then, and used a hand to pull on a chain in order to let the charm free of her shirt. Only it wasn't a charm. It was my old dog tags. I'd gave the damned things to her when she was ten years old, and she'd kept them for eight years. I watched her for a long moment as the girl looked at them for a moment, running her fingers over the indentations in the metal. Luna looked over at me then, caught my eye, and gave me a scowl before shoving the tags back under her shirt.

There was no doubt about it then. Luna had not changed at _all. _

The femme stood up, seemingly in a bit of a huff as she went to thunder up the stairs. I just closed my eyes, shaking with silent laughter. Luna was always so easily flustered, and I'd always found it amusing. There was no way I could help it. When the girl came back down the stairs, she held a pillow and a blanket.

"You're sleeping on the couch," She said firmly, tossing the things at me.

"Yes, milady," I replied with a smirk, prompting her to give a bit of a feminine growl.

"Shut up or I'll make you sleep on the sidewalk," Luna hissed.

"Yes, milady," I repeated, nearly laughing. Luna narrowed her eyes, but gave up with a sigh.

"I hate you."

"I know."

_**Third Person**_

_**Location: **_**The Nemesis**_**, Orbit of Planet Cybertron, Alpha Centauri System, Milky Way Galaxy**_

The ship was cold, breaking down, in desperate need of repair… but the Decepticon was used to it. Far too used to it. Almost disgustingly so. Still, the mech didn't feel any of the chill, nor did he notice the lack of atmosphere. Sure, it was nice to have _some _kind of air running through one's vents, but it didn't matter.

He'd get his feel of air in due time.

Right now, he had a message to deliver. A message that might save him from a bit of ridicule and a couple dents if he was lucky, considering his message contained good news.

The mech finally arrived at his destination, giving the guards at the door a look of distaste. They moved aside without a word, and he slithered inside just as silently. The room behind them was the most well-maintained on the ship. At the large window that gave a view of Cybertron stood a silver mech who could give anyone chills. Decepticon Commander Megatron was his formal address.

However, Starscream didn't really give a shit.

"Megatron," He began in his shrill voice, "I have the reports from Thundercracker from Earth." Megatron turned from the window to view his unfortunate Second-In-Command.

"Yes?" The commander asked in his grizzly tone.

"He says they Autobot defenses have weaken considerably since our… departure," Starscream said, being careful with his words before continuing, "He also reported that one of the Prime twins is separated from the main group… your youngest niece, Luna." Megatron gave a gleeful grin. It was a well known fact that Luna was the weaker of the twins, inheriting more mental capabilities while the elder sister, Artemis, was stronger. If he captured her, Megatron had leverage against Optimus.

"How fortuitous. I do believe a family reunion may be in store," Megatron purred, his smirk only grower wider, "Starscream, assemble a task force and prepare a shuttle. We will depart in five jours." Starscream left quickly, jumping on the order before Megatron could find any other reason to keep him in his quarters. The silver commander turned back to the window, looking over the planet below, thinking of exactly how he would exact his revenge over his younger brother and his pitiful excuse for a family… starting with the baby… Luna…

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**And so the evil Uncle Megsy finally appears! I hope you all liked this chapter! Please review! Construtive Crit is _very _welcome!:3**


	4. Chapter Three

**Author's Note:**

**It's a little later than I hoped, but here it is: chapter three! This one lacks quite a bit of excitement, but I promise the next chapter will be better for that! Still, I hope you like this chapter just as much as the others!**

_**

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**__**Luna's Point of View**_

_**Location: Lexington, Kentucky, United States of America, Planet Earth, Sol System, Milky Way Galaxy.**_

I didn't sleep that night, partly because I didn't want a hangover in the morning, and partly because I felt strangely awkward thinking about the fact that Bumblebee was downstairs sleeping on my couch. Luckily, the next day was a Saturday, meaning I didn't have to work in the morning, so my insomnia perfectly acceptable. However, that didn't make the night any less monotonous; staring perpetually at the ceiling wasn't very interesting after about ten seconds. Eventually, I ended up going back down stairs around one o'clock to head for the food cupboards. Within six minutes I had a cup of chicken flavoured instant ramen, sitting at my tiny table and eating them with chopsticks in the dark. The only audible sounds were my slurping and Bumblebee's snoring, the latter becoming increasingly aggravating.

For a moment, I wondered why in the hell I'd even let that _asshole _into my apartment. Right at the moment he came in, I told myself it was because of his retarded, dumb-ass nose. But that really wasn't any reason to let Bumblebee stay the night. Maybe, in the morning, I could kick him out again. Maybe I'd tell him to go back to Mount Rainier and tell my dad I could take care of myself, that I wasn't two years old anymore. The idea made me frown a bit as I remembered Bumblebee asking me if I hated my father still. Sure, we hadn't spilt on good terms, but I didn't honestly think I hated him. After all, at the end of the day, he was still my dad. You couldn't exactly replace that.

But you could replace guardians, and Bumblebee was in the perfect position for that. Chasing me down through the streets could, in no way, look good on a report. If Bumblebee was even making reports. Somehow I doubted he could do it sprawled out across my couch drooling like a blubbering baby. Maybe I could send a petition or something to my dad, pleading for someone more… competent in their abilities. After all, Bumblebee himself had screamed at me once upon a time about how he couldn't protect me alone. Then _again, _something told me he'd gotten over that stage. There was no way I couldn't notice his muscles when he wore a skin tight shirt. His demeanor had been unnaturally calm last night - or at least it had before I'd hit him with my door. Bumblebee had been training, and training hard since I last saw him. Again, I'd only recognized him because of his voice. That hadn't changed at all. Still smooth as ever, with that thick accent that made you wonder why he didn't say things like 'bloody hell' or 'bugger'… a voice that I could listen to for hours-

_Ohmigod. I am _so _drinking a gallon of bleach tonight._

I stood up from the table then, throwing away the now empty Styrofoam cup and rinsing off my chopsticks before returning them to their proper place. I had to get those _retarded _thoughts out of my head somehow; I had to distract myself. At first, I considering putting on a movie until I remembered the king of all dumb-asses himself was taking up the whole damn couch. Instead, I walked back up the stairs and sat at my desk, pulling out a sketch pad after grabbing a pencil. I hadn't drawn in ages, but I was sure it would suffice as a way to take my mind off of things. I drew for about ten minutes… until I realized the man I'd started to draw had blonde shaggy hair. I attacked the page with my pencil, covering all traces of the drawing under a layer of graphite before forcing it into a haphazard ball and tossing it in the trash.

I tried everything that night to keep my mind off of Bumblebee. I tried reading until I realized the protagonist had blonde hair and blue eyes. I attempted typing short stories, but the main character just happened to own a Camaro every time. Eventually I gave up and went to the bathroom for a pair of pills to put me out. Turned out, though, I'd already used all of them for previous occasions involving insomnia.

"I hate my life," I hissed under my breath, throwing the bottle away angrily. I practically stomped back into the main room, glaring at the blonde mech some more before going back up the stairs for the umpteenth time. I basically hid under the blankets, holding them tight to my face as I fought with myself to go to sleep. Finally, when I thought I would die from sleep deprivation, I drifted into the glorious abyss of unconsciousness.

Sadly, it did not last long enough. And I had one person to blame for that.

"Wake up, Luna!" Bumblebee shouted, throwing my blankets off of me. The only logical response I had was to curl up in a ball and moan "Go away." He just laughed, sitting down on the mattress.

"It's eight o'clock; time to get out of the bed," Bumblebee continued. I opened my eyes to glare at him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I demanded in a sleepy tone, readily considering homicide.

"A lot of things," He replied with a smirk, then scooped me up off the mattress.

"Put me down, goddammit!" I screamed, thrashing like a wild animal and beating Bumblebee on the chest. Again, he laughed like it was nothing, and put me on my feet on the floor.

"Listen here, _bud. _I _really _don't want you here, okay? The only reason I'm letting you stay is because my dad told you to." I wasn't sure if the latter part was a lie or not, but I wasn't delving deeper into the subject. "If you're planning on staying in _my _apartment, that _I _pay for, we're gonna have to lay down some rules. Number one: Don't wake me up on Saturdays. Or any day, for that matter."

"You realize you don't have much of a choice, right? Either you let me stay here and guard, or I get to guard you in Washington," Bumblebee said suavely.

"That has nothing to do with whether or not you wake me up early!" I retorted.

"Sure it does," He replied, "If you kick me out because I woke you up, I'll take you back to base."

"Whatever," I huffed, crossing my arms and glaring at the mech.

"You don't believe me now, but you will later when I'm dragging you out of here by your ankles," He laughed, going down stairs.

"Have I told you that you're an idiot lately?" I screamed at him, leaning slightly over the railing, "I think you need to be reminded."

"I made breakfast," Bumblebee proclaimed in reply. I opened my mouth for a snappy comment, until my mind thought: _Breakfast? _I admittedly ate too much, mostly because I had to have a huge calorie intake as a hybrid. Right about now, breakfast sounded good. Hell, breakfast was good at two in the afternoon. Somewhat warily, I walked down the stairs, eyeing the mech the entire time. Bumblebee smiled smugly, crossing his arms.

"What'd you fix?" I inquired.

"Eggs, toast, ham. The basics," He replied, his smirk getting bigger by the seconds. Somewhat cautiously, I walked across the floor to the kitchen and took a plate from the cupboard. The food _looked _harmless, and frankly it wouldn't make sense for him to do something to it, but I was still kind of worrisome. Regardless, I took a large portion of everything and sat down. Still watching Bumblebee, I took a bite of the egg whites. They actually didn't taste half-bad.

"Since when did you know how to _cook?_" I asked, somewhat flabbergasted by the fact the majority of it wasn't burnt. Bumblebee just shrugged, taking a piece of toast to munch on for himself before sitting down across from me at the table. I glowered at him for a moment before turning back to my eggs.

"What did I do this time?" Bumblebee demanded.

"I don't like it when people watch me eat," I told him.

"I'm not watching you," He said earnestly, leaning back in the chair and putting his feet on the table with a smile, "I'm eating my toast."

"You'd better get your feet off my table before I hit you in the nose again," I hissed. Bumblebee, for once, obliged without a fight. I could tell, though, that he was having too much fun aggravating me, probably because my temper didn't let me brush it off. Trying to ignore him, I stood up with my plate and walked to the couch, plopping down silently. I grabbed a remote and tuned in to _CNN…_

Only to be met by my own father's face.

"We will be conducting a full investigation in regard to the events that occurred two days ago as soon as possible," He began in his ridiculously deep bass, "Rest assured, we will not brush off the seriousness of this occurrence. Please be patient as the required span of the investigation is yet unknown. As the investigation unfolds, we will be preparing our own defenses, though simply as a protocol until enough is known as to whether or not they are needed-"

I whipped around to face Bumblebee, who had been intently watching the television as I had. The mech _looked _just as surprised as me, though I myself could trust nothing I saw on his face. I glared at him for a moment until his eyes locked with mine.

"How long have you know about this?" I asked sharply, thrusting my thumb over my shoulder to gesture at the television.

"Thursday, since the initial report," Bumblebee said cautiously, then added, "I wasn't in Washington at the time."

"_Really?_ Because if my memory serves me correctly, 'protocol' states I need to be in Washington for 'precautionary measures'," I growled, standing up.

"I was on the road; I swear it to Primus," Bumblebee replied, as if he was genuinely honest, "Your father gave me no orders to bring you back."

"_That _is bullshit!" I screamed, marching over to him as he stood, "I bet he told you to convince me to go back, hmm? Probably told you to do whatever it take, right? Well, you can tell him to shove his protocol up his ass, because _I _can take care of myself now, no thanks to _either _of you! Get out!" I grabbed Bumblebee by his shirt sleeve, seeing as I could reach much than that, and started to drag him towards the door. At first, the mech resisted.

"Luna, you're not listening to me! Optimus never told me to bring you back!" Bumblebee insisted, bracing himself against my tugging.

"You're a horrible liar!" I responded. He sighed at that point, and basically gave up.

"Fine. Believe what you want. I don't have be in your apartment to guard you," Bumblebee muttered, almost to himself. I shoved him out the door at that moment, slamming it as hard as I could before locking every possible mechanism I could. For a second, I stood there with my back against the wall, expecting him to try to break back in. When he didn't, and I heard nothing, I went back to the couch, sitting down with my knees tight against my chest as I watched my father answer questions from the media.

He hadn't changed at all - dark brown hair that wasn't exactly an Army cut but still considered short, a clean beard, and a presence that made you _want _to listen to him, made you _want _him to lead you. When you were seven feet tall with insane muscles, it only added on to that presence. Somehow, my dad managed to keep it up in front of the media all the time. Very few people had seen him with frayed nerves. I was one of them, but it didn't degrade my respect for him. Or my pride. The tiniest of smiles spread across my lips despite how pissed I was at the fact he was planning on having Bumblebee drag me back to Mount Rainier-

"About your youngest daughter, Luna," A reporter began, attracting my attention, "Isn't her location still unknown? What are you planning on doing about possible threats to _her, _seeing as she is a target and very vulnerable?"

"Her location is no longer unknown, and her assigned guardian has made contact with her. I have decided to allow Luna to stay in her present location, as it is not known to anymore than myself, her guardian, and Luna herself. It is safer for her there than here," My father replied smoothly to the reporter, and successfully flabbergasted me. I was allowed to stay…?

I was back at the door within seconds, undoing the latches and opening the door… only to find Bumblebee hadn't moved an inch. The mech smiled at me smugly.

"Change your mind?" He asked calmly, looking down at me just as suavely. He knew I knew he was right; there was no doubt about that. I just gestured for him to come back inside, which Bumblebee did without pause. Needless to say, I felt like an idiot, so I didn't speak a single word; I'd let my hate get the better of me, and I'd refused to listen to Bumblebee when he was actually talking somewhat reasonably. Still yet, my pride refused to accept it, so I ignored the mech, walking back to the couch again to listen to the rest of the press conference. The blonde mech sat next to me, and we were both silent for a long moment as we watched attentively.

"What makes him think that they won't find me?" I murmured after a few minutes.

"We don't know if it's them yet-"

"I'm _not _stupid. It's another left-over 'Con, just like it was three years ago. What makes my dad think that they won't find me if they come after me?" I repeatedly sternly. I still remembered the attack. Sure, it was just one Decepticon, but it was the first time I'd seen an… unaltered, so to speak, Cybertronian. The fiend was around thirty feet tall, metallic, with flaming red eyes - or rather optics as they were called. It was like some futuristic demon, and its image had haunted me for ages afterwards. I'd insisted to learn what the Autobots had been like before, trying to convince myself that they had been nothing like the fiend that had attacked our base.

They were exactly the same.

Sure, the Autobots had looked more… friendly, I supposed, with clear blue optics instead of blood red, and they were much more varied than I'd expected, and of course they hadn't went around terrorizing people… but the human part of me still screamed that they were monsters. I had been, for a period of time, afraid of the very mechs and femmes I'd called family. My more logical side had to fight for quite sometime to convince me that I was safe at base. After all, they'd never be that way again… but if one encounter with a Decepticon could do that to me, what would another do? I didn't have long to linger on it, as Bumblebee finally spoke up.

"Your energy signature is barely detectable in a city of this side," He muttered, "A Decepticon wouldn't find you for ages, even if they wanted to."

"Then how did you find me?" I asked, my voice holding only the slightest panicky tone.

"Because your energy signature is so familiar to me," Bumblebee said with a smile, obviously trying to reassure me. I just stared at him for a moment, then turned back to the television.

We were both silent until the press conference was over, at which point I announced I was going to take a shower.

Once inside the bathroom, I nearly panicked. Another Decepticon had been detected, and here I was with only Bumblebee here to do anything about it. Of course, I'd been enough of an idiot to decide to go across the whole slaggin' country instead of stay in Seattle where I would've been safer, where the Autobots could arrive in minutes if a Decepticon did show up. Honestly, I was starting to believe that this whole decision to leave in the first place wasn't the smartest thing to do. What if I died just because I left base? What could I do then? Nothing! I'd be dead! Just before I broke down in tears, I forced those thoughts out of my head. I _wasn't _going to die anytime soon. If my dad said I was safe here, then I was safe. After all, I had the Witless Wonder looking out for me… Primus bless my soul. I smiled a bit, and finally collected myself enough to take a shower.

I allowed myself to linger in the hot water there, to think a little more about more pleasant things. At least I'd been born only a year before the Decepticons had been defeated. I couldn't remember those times, no matter if I tried to. I didn't have the slightest notion of the Autobots'… er, previous appearance. After all, I'd just been a baby… My memory had been saved of chaos. I wondered what I would've been like if the Decepticons had never been defeated at all. Would I have been stronger? Less afraid? Maybe I'd even have my own pair of dog tags around my neck instead of Bumblebee's. My heart fluttered a bit. They would've never even been made, considering the fact he would've still been… a-a monst- still in his original state. I trembled. _Don't think about it, _I urged myself. _Don't think about it._

After I finished my shower, I fixed my hair and did my make-up. For a long time, I stared at myself in the mirror. I'd been conceived before the Autobots had taken on human forms. I had come from that which I feared. The fact that my eyes could glow when I was angry was proof of that. The fact my bones were as strong as Cybertronian alloy was proof of that. Somehow, my mother had loved my father despite his exterior appearance. I wondered that, if I had still loved Bumblebee, would I have been able to love him unconditionally the same way my mother had loved my father? I couldn't know. I would never know.

I liked it better that way.

I put on my clothes then; a simple white summer dress. I'd had it for quite some time, but it still looked nice and it still fit, so I figured I might as well put it on. It didn't really matter, after all, what I wore and what I didn't. It was just clothes. I finally walked out of the bathroom to find Bumblebee still sitting on the couch, as patient with me as he'd always been. I could never understand that. Once upon a time, I'd asked him. He'd simply replied that he could wait for me forever, because he loved me. I'd accepted it then. It didn't make sense anymore.

"You look nice," Bumblebee observed, and I watched his eyes travel up and down my form, "Why are you so dressed up?"

"It's just a dress," I answered in a grumble. I didn't like it, the way he had looked at me, the way he was _still _looking at me. It made me uncomfortable. It wasn't malicious… no, it was the exact opposite, and that was why I was afraid. Maybe Bumblebee still held affection for me, but I didn't want it anymore. I didn't _need _it anymore, like I had before, when I was naïve and immature and in love with every minute detail about him. All I wanted to do now was push him away before I thought I liked him again. I wanted to be repulsed when I looked at him, with his perfect hair and perfect smile and-

_Dammit!_

"You can go take your shower now," I asked, then paused, "Do you have any clothes?"

"Yes. I brought them in from my car this morning," Bumblebee replied, standing up.

"Okay," I shrugged slightly, "I was just wondering."

"What's wrong?" He questioned. I hated him. I hated him with his retarded energy-signature-reading bullshit that 'supposedly' picked up on changes in mood, because 'supposedly', someone's energy changes like that. I wished he could go rot in the pit, because I knew he would've known something was wrong without it.

"I'm just torn up a bit over the whole Decepticon thing," I mumbled, looking down. It wasn't a lie and it would suffice, though I could tell Bumblebee knew there was something more. He didn't press me, though, and merely went into the bathroom after grabbing some clothes from his bag in the corner. After he did, I hit myself several times in the forehead with the palm of my hand. I wasn't going to get myself into this mess again. This retarded mess of hormones and false feelings and all that mushy bullshit. I would _kill _myself before I fell in love with Bumblebee again. I was sure of it.

Then again, I'd also vowed suicide last night.

"I fail at life," I whispered to myself, laying across the couch and putting the pillow that was still there from last night on my face. I thought I was going to vomit when I realized it smelled like Bumblebee, but I didn't do anything about it. I would die right here, under this damn pillow that I would never use again anyway. Stupid smell. It wasn't bad; oh, no, it was the exact opposite of bad, but it made me want to kill puppies. I hated myself for recognizing it. I hated Bumblebee for still smelling the same way, too. Stupid retarded mech. Still, I just decided to lay there, listening to the anchors on _CNN _babble about the economy and my dad and the Middle East and my dad and the president and my dad, over and over and over again, and then some more. It was like a huge loop, saying the same things again and again and…

"_What _are you doing, Luna?" Bumblebee asked suddenly, frightening me for a millisecond.

"I'm suffocating myself. What are you doing?" I replied quickly. Bumblebee just sighed, throwing the pillow off my face onto the floor. I sat up only to wish I _had _suffocated myself. The damned bastard was wearing the outfit that had been my favourite long ago. It was just a plain white t-shirt and blue jeans, but the simplicity of it was what had made me like it so much. The mech sat beside me after I sat back up, staring at me like I was an idiot.

"I swear you're insane," Bumblebee told me, though in a somewhat joking manner.

"You have no idea…"

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**Well, what did you think? Let me know in a review! Again, I would _really _love it if you guys gave me some pointers on how to improve! I'll be starting on chapter four as soon as this is posted, and if you're lucky, it'll be up tonight! Thanks again, everyone! =)**


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